Knives and Scimitars
by West Wind
Summary: (AU) Catherine and Trowa are part of a traveling interplanetary circus that visit the desert planet Afton, but before they can leave disaster strikes. Catherine is kidnapped and Trowa is out to save her with a bit of help from his new friends.
1. Chapter 1

Knives and Scimitars By West Wind Chapter 1 

Summary: (AU) Catherine and Trowa are part of a traveling interplanetary circus that visit the desert planet Afton, but before they can leave disaster strikes. Catherine is kidnapped and Trowa is out to save her with a bit of help from his new friends. 

Rating: PG 

Category: Adventure, Romance 

Pairing: 4xC 

* * *

Catherine stared into the darkness of space from one of the recreation rooms abroad their inter-planetary transport. They had been traveling for a week to get to their destination of L4 where the circus had never performed before. 

From her research, Catherine had learned that the planet Afton in the L4 system was mostly a desert environment. The first settlers arrived there over four hundred years ago. The people were at one time nomadic in nature. There were groups that still were but many had settled down in the cities. 

She watched the reflection of her seventeen-year-old brother in the window as he approached. 

"Trowa," she greeted softly. 

"I thought I would find you here," he said standing next to her. 

She studied his reflection. Over the past two years he had several growth spurts and now stood taller than her. He ran his fingers through his long brown bangs that hung over one green eye. The other one took in the spacescape before him. 

_"One day, I will have to beat the women off him,"_ she thought protectively of the hansom Trowa. 

It was so ingrained in her now to watch out for him, even if she was only a year older. They had lost their parents when they were young. The circus had made sure they were taken care of, but Catherine fiercely cared for Trowa like a mother lion for her cubs. She knew one day she would have to let that tendency fade. He was becoming a man and had begun to strain against her hold in his own quiet way. 

"Only a few more days and we will be there," Trowa said. 

"I know," Catherine sighed as she threaded her arm through his and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I think we spend more time in space than we ever do planet side." 

"We are supposed to be there for a month," he pointed out still watching the darkness and their reflections. 

"Then we have three weeks traveling to the L5 system," she countered wearily. "I am being moody again, aren't I," she said looking up at him. 

He did not say anything, but she could tell he agreed with her. 

"Maybe I need a vacation," she pondered. "It's time to practice, isn't it?" she asked after a brief pause. 

Trowa nodded. 

"Well, let's polished up our act for Afton," she said heading to the door. 

Trowa silently followed. 

* * *

They entered the large arena that often doubled for their big top depending on the accommodations of the city. Some group was always practicing and working out new acts in one of the many areas. Currently there were only two groups on the room. The Sirhan family was swinging from the trapeze, and the clowns were working on their slapstick moves. 

Trowa pulled out the board with Catherine's targets on it. She pulled out the set of sharp steel knives and her set of laser knives. The laser knives were trickier to work with than the standard blades, but Catherine was anxious to incorporate them into the act. She and Trowa had been working to master them for six months. She believed that they would be ready to use them in their next set of performances. 

The blades were longer than her standard throwing dagger and curved slightly. If they were not activated, the edge was not sharp enough to cut anything. Activated was another story. The special substance the blade was made of had interesting properties. When a laser and electric current from the handle was applied to the substance, the blade's edges glowed with light. The color and intensity depended on the power level, and they were capable of cutting through cloth to metal doors. 

Catherine checked over the laser knives before handing a pair to Trowa. They activated the knives and a pail red light flickered around the blade's edge. They each started tossing the pair of knives above their heads. The knives twirled in the air leaving a faint blur of light in their path. They rotated back to the ground where they were caught and tossed once more. As if on cure, both Catherine and Trowa tossed a knife at the other. They were soon juggling the four knives between them. Catherine added two more once the new pattern was established. The six knives gracefully moved through the space between the performers till the end. 

Trowa kept incorporating each knife tossed to him into the dance above his head. Slowly, he tossed each knife back to his sister, who tossed it at the target immediately upon catching it. The knife was embedded into the board and the glow faded. 

The last knife hit its mark, and the sound of a single person clapping started. 

Catherine and Trowa looked up to see the manager. 

"I think you two have that routine down," he praised them. "I bet it looks even better with the lights dimmed and the glowing targets." 

"It does," assured Catherine. 

"Yesterday, I received a message form the sultan of Afton. He requested a privet show for his family. He left the choice of which acts up to me," the manager said. 

Catherine and Trowa nodded listening intently. 

"I would like the two of you to do that act, as well as, one of your acrobatic acts." 

"How much room will we have?" Trowa asked as he mentally ran through their repertoire of routines. "It will make a difference on which act we do." 

"There will be plenty of room," the manager said before pulling out a piece of paper from his stack. "Here is the general layout and demotions." 

Trowa accepted the paper and examined the diagram. 

"I will leave the details up to you," the manager said before leaving to talk to some of the other performers. 

Catherine moved to examine the paper as well. 

The room was definitely large enough for any of their acts. There was one large door at one end and a couple of smaller doors around the edge. Opposite the large door was a marked off area where she guessed the sultan and his family would be. 

"That's plenty of room," Catherine commented. 

Trowa nodded still lost in thought. 

"Getting Betty through the door would be a tight fit," he said pointing to the door. 

"I think the elephant is overkill," said Catherine. "Why don't we use a pair of white horses for our entrance? They could enter abreast of each other with us standing on their backs." 

Trowa nodded once more and the two became wrapped up in planning a routine until other performers wanted to use the area they had been practicing in. 

They cleared out their props and retired to their shared suite to finish the planning. By evening they had an outline of what they would do and planned on practicing it for the remainder of the trip. 

* * *

Their large ship landed in the shipping port outside the city. Once they were safely on the ground, the ship came alive with movement. They had to load everything up and transport it to the building they would be performing in while in this city. The circus personnel readied to leave, and the manager talked with the port authorities and filled out the needed paperwork before anyone could set foot on the planet. 

Catherine stepped out into the arid air of Afton. The rolling expanse of sand stretched out away from the shipping port. She could see the force field generators beyond the port that kept it from being overrun by the ever-moving sand around it. 

She climbed into the transport with Trowa so they could get on their way. 

They passed a variety of ships on their way to the city. Most of them were small "hopper" ships. 

"I wonder why there are so many smaller ships here?" Catherine voiced mostly for herself. 

Most of the main ports they visited housed large off world transport ships rather than the smaller shuttle craft variety. 

"Probably how they get from one city to another," answered Trowa. "I would think the desert would be hard to cross in a standard vehicle." 

Catherine had to agree with her brother. 

"Look!" pointed Catherine as the large domed city came into sight. 

The shimmering dome started at the top of the city wall and arched to the city's center. The domes were used in some of the cities to keep vital moisture in the man-controlled environment. It allowed for the lush vegetation that poked out above the wall of the city to thrive, and provided a more pleasant environment for the citizens. Beyond the large dome, Catherine could make out smaller domes around it. 

They approached one of the smaller domes. They were directed to a large door. Part of their group filled the room and the doors shut behind them. Moisture was pumped into the air before the doors in front of them opened and allowed them to enter. They were guided down a wide road to an underground tunnel entrance. 

Catherine thought they were underground forever before they emerged into the main part of the city. 

The capital city of Jezzel was grand. Most of the buildings were made of a brilliant white stone that sparkled under the intense light of the L4 sun. They had flat roofs where the city's occupants appeared to have gardens. From one of the rooftops, a young girl watched the circus pass under her. Catherine waved to her and the girl immediately hid behind a large pot before peeking out again moments later. 

They made their way through the crowded city to the arena that they would perform in while here. They spent the rest of the day getting things in place, and the manager was escorted to the palace to make arraignments. 

* * *

The next day was the day they would perform at the palace. Those performing for the sultan gathered early with their props and started their trek. The palace guards examined everything carefully before they were allowed to enter. There was a bit of concern over Catherine's knives but they allowed her to keep them. 

Once through the gate, Catherine looked around wide-eyed. 

"Have you seen anything so big?" she asked Trowa. 

"The parliament building on Kirlep was similar in size, but not so architecturally pleasing to the eye." 

Leave it to her brother to find the exception. 

The palace was made of the same white stone as she saw in the rest of the city, but it had a mosaic of colored stones outlining the doors and windows and running around the building about two thirds up. Like in town, there were plants visible above the ledge of the roof. The veining kind reached over the ledge and down the wall. Catherine could make out the sound of running water in the distance and wondered if there was a fountain somewhere. 

The inside was decorated with plants, a few fountains containing large golden fish, and cadged singing birds. Light flowing drapes covered the doorways and swayed as they passed. The guard led them to the room they were to perform in and showed them the side rooms they could use between acts. 

They spent the morning setting up and practicing for their late afternoon show. They had a light lunch and time to rest before the show began. A guard informed them when the sultan and his family had gathered and were waiting. That was the manager's cue to introduce the performers. 

The manager stood in the center of the room and bowed to the sultan. 

"O' gracious Sultan, thank you for the opportunity you have given us humble entertainers to amuse you and your family." With the formalities out of the way, the manager stood once more. "It is my pleasure to introduce to you the nimble acrobatic siblings, Trowa and Catherine!" 

On cue, the doors were pulled open and Trowa and Catherine entered hand in hand held above them and standing on the back of two white horses. The horsed trotted in and followed the curvature of the room picking up speed with each step. 

Trowa moved so one foot was on each horse at the same time Catherine did. They completed the circle and faced the end of the room where the sultan sat on the cushioned chair. As the horsed moved forward, Trowa tossed Catherine in the air. She pulled her arms in tight to increase the speed of her spin. She fell back to the ground, and Trowa expertly caught her and supported her as she sat on one of his shoulders. She extended her arms above her head briefly before moving to the next part. 

Catherine slipped off Trowa's shoulder and they both stood on one horse once more just before the horses came to the front of the room and split. The horses carried the siblings along opposite walls. Half way down the room, Trowa and Catherine sprang from their horse and executed a triple aril spin. They landed perfectly beside each other. 

Their audience, mostly female, clapped enthusiastically. The performers let the applause die down and took the chance to catch their breath before the next part. 

A tower of hoops was placed in the center while the audience applauded. First Catherine performed a series of tumbles and cartwheels before springing through one of the hoops and rolling to her feet on the other side. Trowa followed with his own version of the trick, only going through one hoop up from the one Catherine had used. 

Catherine sailed threw the fourth ring up with a boost from Trowa. She tucked and rolled on the mats on the other side before coming to her feet. 

To wrap up this portion of their act, they tumbled toward the hoop tower in an act of perfect synchronization with Trowa slightly behind Catherine. Catherine jumped through one hoop while Trowa entered the one above. They amazingly landed without crashing into each other. 

Once more the room filled with clapping. Catherine and Trowa bowed to the audience, while the horses were sent into the room once more. 

The horses pranced around the room and toward the siblings. Trowa tossed Catherine in the air so she landed on one of the horses as he passed while Trowa sprang to the back of the other. They trotted all the way out of the room. 

The manager introduced each of the hand picked acts, and the audience seemed to appreciate the experienced performer's routines. 

Catherine and Trowa were the finale with their laser knife act. The lights dimmed, and they took their places while one of the hands placed the target board in place. Their knives glowed with life and the juggling act began. 

It progressed just like they practiced. They ended with the six knives in the target board at each of the illuminated targets. 

The lights came up, and they bowed to their audience before slipping from the performance area. The manager once more took center stage and thanked the sultan for his patronage. 

"Please, have everyone, who participated in this show, come out," said the sultan from his perch. 

The circus personnel quickly assembled with the ease of familiarity. 

"I am sure I speak for my family when I say, we were delighted by your show," the sultan's voice easily carried across the room so all could hear. 

There was a murmur of agreement from the others around the room. 

"Please, stay and join us for dinner," he invited. 

The manager accepted the invitation on behalf of those present. 

"Good, good," clucked the sultan as he stood revealing his height. "Alice, will show you where you may freshen up and bring you to the banquet hall." 

With that, he turned, his robe swirling behind him, escorted the woman who sat beside him, and walked out through a door behind his chair. The others began to stir about. Many of the younger girls glanced below whispering behind their hands and giggling. 

Catherine noticed many of them were eyeing her brother, and her musings of a few days ago returned. 

Alice escorted them out and to a set of rooms that they could shower and clean up. 

Catherine entered the designated room with the other females. 

"Welcome," said a woman dressed in pale yellow billowing pants and shirt with a brown sash around her waist with a slight bow. "There are showers with all you need over there." 

Catherine followed the woman's pointing hand. The wall was filled with stalls containing showers. 

"Towels are stacked on the bench, and we have comfortable clean clothes for you to change into. Please help yourselves," she smiled. 

The girls giggled with delight at the treatment the sultan was giving them. 

Catherine was one of the first to get into a shower after stripping from her sweaty performance garb. The water washed over her, and she used the provided soap to wash away the sweat that clung to her. She wrapped a soft white towel around her and another around her hair after shutting off the water. The same woman was there handing her neatly folded stack of cloths. 

"Here, you will find these very comfortable," she smiled. 

Catherine took the stack from her and slipped on the dark brown shirt and pants. She pulled the draw string taunt and tied it off. She examined the light brown sash. 

"Let me show you," offered the yellow clad woman. 

She wrapped the light brown cloth around Catherine's waist and showed her how to secure it. 

Catherine found the cloths were loose fitting and comfortable as she experimentally moved around in them. 

The others were getting out and dressing. Catherine helped them with the sash. When they were done, they were all dressed in a colorful mixture of lightweight shirts and pants with complementing sashes. 

The women joined the men in the large hallway before they were shown to the banquet hall. Catherine found Trowa. His outfit was the exact reverse of hers. The light brown shirt looked good on him. 

"I see they gave you new clothes too," she smiled. 

"Yep," he concisely replied. 

One of the other household staff indicated that it was time to enter the room as the two doors opened. 

Catherine moved through the two large doors close beside Trowa. 

The room was filled with people dressed in similar cloths she now wore and long tables filled with food. The room's occupants looked up at their entrance. The younger girls immediately started whispering once more. 

"I think you have admirers," Catherine quietly pointed out to Trowa. 

He glanced toward the girls, and they broke into giggles that proved Catherine's point. Trowa turned his attention to his sister and shrugged indifferently. 

The sultan entered the room and spread his arms out to welcome them. 

"Family, and guests, please, help yourselves to the laid out banquet and find a comfortable cushion to enjoy each other's company." 

The sultan progressed to the table and started filling a plate. Some of the older women followed behind. Their guide motioned for them to start at one of the other tables in the room. Soon people were lined up at one of the four long tables filling plates with roast meats, fruit, and sweets. 

Catherine stepped away from the table after filling her plate and glanced around the room for a place to sit. Trowa tapped her on the shoulder and motioned to an area along one of the walls that was vacant. Catherine nodded and moved to the place he indicated. They sat cross-legged on the large cushions and balanced their plates in their laps. 

Catherine examined a slice of a pale yellow melon. 

"They are very sweet," informed a female voice. 

Catherine looked up into a tan smiling face framed by wayward strands of almost black hair. 

"May I join you?" she asked. 

Catherine nodded. 

The woman lowered herself onto the pillow. Her white flared sleeve fell back to her elbow, where it was synched with gold bands, as she flipped her long black braid out of her way. 

"My name is Niveous. I am the Sultan's 20th daughter." 

"Twentieth?" questioned Catherine shocked. "How many does he have?" 

Trowa raised an eyebrow in quandary, as well. 

"There are twenty nine daughters," she answered with a knowing laugh. 

"How many sons?" asked Trowa. 

"One," Niveous answered. 

"Thirty children," Catherine totaled, her mind reeling, as she felt sorry for the Sultan's wife. 

"He has twelve wives." 

"Twelve?" both Catherine and Trowa whispered. 

"I guess I should have done more studying on your culture before arriving," observed Catherine. 

"Although there is no official limit, twelve is many for even our culture," Niveous said. "Most sultans in the past only had two or three wives at most. Father just has a weakness for the women," she shrugged. 

Catherine scanned the room and its small number of males. 

"Which one is your brother?" asked Catherine curious to see the only male out of thirty children. 

Niveous' expression saddened. 

"He is not here. He and Father currently are not on the best of terms." 

"Oh," responded Catherine. "Sorry, I asked." 

Niveous smiled sadly. 

"There is no need to be sorry. One day they will reconcile their differences. They are both so strong willed and stubborn," she laughed. "They are so much alike, and they don't see it. All Father sees is his son is not conforming to what he wants him to do and not the good that QR is trying to achieve." She slurred the Q and R together so it came out like Cue'r. 

"I do wish he was here. He would have enjoyed your performance," she assured. 

"How long did it take you to master the laser knives?" she asked the siblings. 

With a few questions, Niveous had the two telling her about circus life while they ate. Her dark eyes reflected her curiosity about life elsewhere as they talked, and it spurred the two to tell of what they had seen in their travels. 

They were joined by Niveous' half sister, Juliana. The short haired brunet was as interested as Niveous in the performers' tales. 

"Are my daughters keeping you entertained?" asked the Sultan hovering behind his daughters. 

"They are being gracious hosts," assured Catherine. 

The two daughters shifted so they could see their father. 

"Glad to hear it," the Sultan smiled. 

"I want to personally tell you how much I enjoyed your performances. Your skill and practice shined on the floor." 

Trowa and Catherine slightly bowed their heads and murmured thanks to the Sultan for his kind words. 

"How long have you been with the circus?" he inquired taking a seat between his daughters. 

"All our lives," answered Catherine. 

"I am sure your parents are very proud of you," the Sultan beamed. 

Catherine momentarily stiffened at the statement. 

"Our parents died when we were young," answered Trowa. 

There was a brief pause in the conversation afterwards. 

"Catherine and Trowa were telling us about the places they have traveled," Niveous said to change the subject. 

"I am sure they have traveled extensively," he told his daughter. "Have you been to earth?" he asked Catherine and Trowa. 

"Yes, we usually spend a stint there every other standard year," Catherine answered. 

The Sultan heard her but seemed to be lost in his own thoughts before he snapped out of it and smiled at them again. 

"I would like to visit there some day," he commented. 

"Do you enjoy all your traveling?" he asked. 

"It is fun to see new places, but it has its advantages and disadvantage as any lifestyle," Catherine answered. 

Those listening nodded 

"I am sure you leave broken hearts at every stop," the Sultan commented with a hint of lust in his eye as he looked at her. 

Trowa bristled protectively at the Sultan's unspoken desire. 

"If I have, I am not aware of it," Catherine coolly answered. 

"Father, you already have a wife whose name starts with a K," voiced Juliana. 

Catherine was not going to correct Juliana on the error of her name's spelling as she watched the lust fade from the Sultan's eyes. His expression softened, and he sighed. 

"You are right," he said as he placed a hand on Juliana's shoulder. "It would mess up my entire naming scheme. Well, there are others I must talk to. Hope you enjoy the rest of your time here." 

The Sultan then stood and made his way to another group of guests. Trowa and Catherine watched him leave and were slightly confused by the last bit of conversation. 

"What did he mean?" Catherine asked. 

"Oh," began Niveous with a wave of her hand, "all of his children's names begin with the letter of their mother. That way it is easy for him to associate the child with her mother." 

"He's just wanting another wife in hopes of getting another boy," disgustedly commented an older woman who filled the space the Sultan just vacated. 

"Catherine, Trowa, this is our sister, Kala. Kala, Catherine and Trowa," introduced Niveous. 

Kala nodded her warm greetings. The siblings returned the gesture. 

"He is just being his normal hormone-driven self," voiced Juliana. "He drools over any new attractive woman till reason kicks in." 

Niveous nodded her agreement. 

"Enough of family problems discussed in front of our guests," said Niveous and directed the conversation on to other topics. 

* * *

It was late by the time the group returned and joined the rest of the circus. Catherine put the horses up before dragging herself into the room she shared with Trowa. He entered only a few moments later looking as exhausted as she felt. 

"That was the most interesting after performance I think we have ever been a part of," Catherine commented. 

Trowa tossed his bag down as he agreed. 

"Twelve wives and thirty children," Catherine murmured still trying to get her mind around the concept. "Why is it always the man that has multiple spouses and never the woman," she demanded to the air. 

"Would you want more than one husband to clean up after?" Trowa asked. 

Catherine wrinkled her nose in a look of abhorrence. 

"There's your answer," Trowa concluded heading to his room. 

His door shut and Catherine followed his example. She crawled into bed and was soon asleep. 

* * *

Trowa and Catherine finished their last act for their third show on Afton. The crowds' applause filled the air as they left the ring. So far, their laser knife-juggling act was loved by all that saw it on this planet. 

"Another pleased crowd," bubbled Catherine hyped up on the adrenaline rush from performing. 

She walked beside her brother with a bounce in her step. 

"Catherine, Trowa," called a hushed voice. 

From around a corner, Niveous poked her head and beckoned them to join her. The two performers joined the princess. Juliana was with her sister and had an impish look about her. 

"We saw yesterday's show!" bounced Juliana. "It was great. I wish I had some special skill like tumbling or walking a tightrope," she briefly pouted. 

Niveous gave her sister a light shove. 

"We were wondering if you would like to see some of our favorite spots in town?" asked Niveous. 

Trowa and Catherine exchanged a brief look and knew what the other was thinking immediately from the years of working so closely together. During an act, they had to be able to interpret the others movements and meanings without a word being spoken. 

"We'll go. Just let us change first," Catherine answered to the delight of the two girls. 

Juliana and Niveous followed them to their room. Trowa and Catherine showered and changed quickly. 

"Good, you're ready. Let's go!" Juliana excitedly said and pulled at their arms for them to follow. 

"Jul, give them a chance to get their things together," chided Niveous. 

"But, I want to introduce them to our friends," she eagerly bounced full of energy. 

"Is she always this hyper up?" Trowa asked. 

"Only when she is not attending official functions or sleeping," answered Niveous. 

"Come on," Juliana begged. 

"OK. We are coming," assured Catherine as she snatched up her jacket against the cool nights. 

* * *

The two girls pulled their cloak hoods up over their heads hiding their faces in shadows before leading Trowa and Catherine through the streets of the city. 

"Have you been to the marked during the day?" asked Juliana as they passed through. 

"No, we haven't," answered Catherine. 

"Go if you get the chance," Juliana said. "Stop at that stand over there, it sells the best warm sweet rolls you have ever tasted," she recommended. 

As they walked, the girls pointed out other interesting places to visit. 

"We are taking you to a friend's house. He is having a get together. They are always fun and you can meet some of our other sisters," Juliana informed them. 

Niveous knocked on a house door. 

"Niveous! Jul! I see you brought some friends. Ellissia said you might," said the man answering the door. 

The girls entered the crowded room with Catherine and Trowa on their heels. 

"Jul!" called another young man who gave Juliana a warm hug that she returned. "Snowflake," he greeted as happily to Niveous. [1] 

"George," she said coldly with arms crossed. "Don't call me Snowflake." 

"Ice Queen fits better," he teased. 

"Whom do you have here?" he asked before she responded. 

Juliana made introductions, and Ellissia, another of their sisters, joined them. 

"I did not get to talk to you at the palace," Ellissia said. "I enjoyed your show." 

"Thank you," responded both Trowa and Catherine. 

Someone started up the music in another room. 

"Let's dance," George said to Juliana. 

She agreed. The two joined the small group of others dancing. 

"What does she see in him?" Niveous asked. 

"I find him annoying too," Ellissia confirmed. 

"Tony, Ally and Is are over there trying to get your attention," Ellissia pointed out. 

The four got something to drink and joined the others. They found a corner to congregate in. 

"I saw your show yesterday," Is said. "How long does it take you to put together an act?" 

"Depends on the act," Catherine answered. 

The group was soon swapping stories and laughing. 

"She is still at it," said Ally amazed as she looked out at the group of dancing people. 

Juliana was jumping and swaying to whatever music they played and with whoever would dance with her. Gorge only lasted two songs. Since him, she had danced with five other guys. If she did not have a partner she just danced around the floor or with a group of other girls. 

"She will go until she drops," said Ellissia. 

"You want to dance?" Is asked Ellissia. 

"Sure," she answered. 

Is offered Ellissia his hand and escorted her to the dance floor. 

"How about you, Ally?" Tony asked and two more disappear from their group. 

Somehow Niveous convinced Trowa to dance. Catherine clucked to herself. Baby brother was growing up and was showing interest in girls. 

That evening the two circus performers found themselves treated to and evening of talk and dancing by the three princesses and their friends. Before they knew it, it was past midnight. A group of breathless dancers collapsed at the table. They all breathed heavily and tried not to laugh at Is' jokes because it hindered them getting their breathing back to normal. Juliana sat down with them. She downed her third glass of water. 

"That was fun," Juliana declared before her head dropped to the table. 

Catherine and Trowa looked concerned. 

"She hit her wall," said Is. 

"Yep," the others agreed. 

"She is either on or off," explained Niveous. "There is no middle ground with her. This is her off state." 

"It is getting late," said Ally glancing at her watch. 

"Wow, it is," agreed Niveous glancing at her own timepiece. "We should probably go." 

"Is and I will take Jul home," Ellissia said. "You can show Trowa and Catherine back. 

"We'll go with you," offered Ally and Tony. 

With that decided the group broke up and headed in different directions. 

Author's Note: [1] Niveous is just a word that I found in my 2000+ page dictionary that means like snow, especially in whiteness. Therefore, George calling her snowflake was a reference to the definition of her name. I hope to explain that later on in the story, but don't know if it will actually make it into the story. Stories don't always run exactly as one first plans. [Back to story]


	2. Chapter 2

Knives and Scimitars By West Wind Chapter 2 

Summary: (AU) Catherine and Trowa are part of a traveling interplanetary circus that visit the desert planet Afton, but before they can leave disaster strikes. Catherine is kidnapped and Trowa is out to save her with a bit of help from his new friends. 

Rating: PG 

Category: Adventure, Romance 

Pairing: 4xC 

* * *

The circus was nearing its fourth week on Afton and had been to many cities. The current one was not a domed city like the capital and did not have an arena so they used the ships for the shows. 

"I want to get out," Catherine said. 

"How about we go to the market," Cillia suggested. "Tham and I were going to go today." 

"Sound's like a plan," said Catherine. "You want to come, Trowa?" 

Trowa paused ready to turn down the offer. 

"Come on," said Catherine. 

Trowa gave in and agreed to go with them. 

* * *

The four strolled through the town. Sand colored buildings lined the streets. They were similar in architecture to what they saw in the capital only smaller. The open area for the market was crowed with people and booths. Cillia purchased a shirt in their wandering. The hardest part was to stay together in the throng of people. It did not take much to loose someone. 

Trowa was following Cillia and Tham when he noticed Catherine was no longer by his side. He called for the other two to halt while he turned back to look for her. He caught sight of her and started toward her when she let out a scream. 

"Trowa!" Her panic filled cry rose above the crowd. 

She was moving away from him and struggling. Two men were dragging her off. She was screaming and kicking. 

"Cillia! Tham! Get help. I am going after them," Trowa said as he unsuccessfully tried to push through the crowd. 

Catherine called out for Trowa a few more times before she went limp. 

Trowa's heart began to beat faster with fear for his sister. They seemed to be slipping away faster than he could push through the crowd. Before he lost them, he scaled the side of a nearby building so he could follow them from the roofs. From his new vantage point, he could see the two men scurrying through the streets. Trowa ran across the rooftops, gracefully jumping the spans between buildings, in pursuit. 

The men neared the edge of town and headed out across the sand leaving behind two sets of indented prints in the sand. 

Trowa climbed down once the crowds thinned. By the time he came to the city's edge he could just see them disappearing over the sand dune. Trowa looked around weighting what to do. He could go back and get help, but who knew where they would take Catherine once they were out there. Tracks in the sand did not stay for long. The ones the abductors left behind were already beginning to fill in. A voice in the back of Trowa's mind told him he had to follow, at least slow them down until help arrived, else he might not see his sister again. 

It might not have been the most rational choice, but Trowa chose to cross the sands. Fear for his sister's well being hammered with each step he took. 

"I should have been watching out for her," Trowa cursed under his breath. "I have to save her." 

Trowa caught sight of them as they topped a ridge. They were always just at the edge of his sight. He tried to push harder. Sand poured into his shoes as he climbed the dune. With each step up, the sand would slip out from under his feet. Several times he lost ground to the sifting sand. Once he lost his balance completely. He slid for twenty feet. The sand grated against his face and other exposed skin as he slid. 

Trowa's downward movement halted to his relief. He spit the sand from his mouth and slowly regained his footing. He pulled his shirt away from his body several times and sand trickled out. He ran his fingers through his hair trying to dislodge the excess sand there. He could feel the small grains coating his scalp as his fingers brushed over them. 

Back on his feet, he tried to get his bearings. His quarry was no longer in sight. He trudged on in the last direction he had seen them. This time, he set off on a diagonal up the slope instead of strait up. He found this method slightly easier. 

_"I hope Catherine is all right. You have to be all right. Please, be all right, "_ Trowa prayed. 

Trowa crested one more rise. There they were. The two men trudged with their bundle down to two awaiting vehicles. The vehicles looked similar to motorcycles, but where the wheels should be, it flared out to form a broad base that sat on the ground. Trowa guessed that it was some form of hovercraft. 

If they got on those, he would never be able to follow them. He had to get to Catherine quickly. He started running down the hill picking up momentum before falling back and riding the slope as a slide. Trowa barreled into the man not carrying Catherine. The two tumbled farther down. Trowa punched the confused man several times before springing back to his feet. The second man glared at the youth. 

_"I'm in trouble now,"_ Trowa thought as he sought his next move. _"If I can get Catherine and to one of those machines, I can get us both out of this."_

Trowa charged the man. With the impact, the man's hold on Catherine loosened. As they fell, Trowa was able to get Catherine free and rolled away from her captor. 

Trowa was shocked that it had actually worked. He had his sister, but he still needed to get to the bike. With cat-like movements, Trowa stood scooping the unconscious Catherine up in the process. He dashed for the bike, but the sifting sands and additional weight made it hard to run. He made it to the bike and quickly got on while balancing Catherine in his lap. He searched for the ignition when there was an impact on the back of his head and neck. 

"No, you don't, kid," came a gruff gravely voice. 

Trowa's head spun with the impact. Catherine's weight vanished. Fists latched onto his shirtfront and pulled Trowa from the bike. Trowa found himself starring at the second man. A ragged peppered beard wrapped around the man's chin and annoyance gleamed in his brown eyes. Crooked stained teeth were unveiled with the evil grin. 

"You shouldn't interfere with another man's job," he said before landing a punch in Trowa's stomach. 

"Uff," escaped Trowa's lips as the air quickly left his body with the collision. 

Pain radiated from his stomach out. His initial reaction was the desire to curl into a ball, but he had to save Catherine. He threw his weight against the man to get him off balance, but it did not work a second time. The man's grip only tightened, and he punched Trowa again. 

"Awk! Get up! Secure the girl and get on the bike!" he ordered. 

The skinny man rubbed his jaw as he came into Trowa's view. He secured Catherine to the backrest on the back of the bike and got on in front of her. 

Trowa tried to break free while his attacker watched Awk. He got free of the man's grasp, but before he could attack, the man boxed Trowa's ears. Trowa stumbled in the sand and fell. The man was on him in an instant kicking Trowa till he curled into a ball for protection. The man squatted and pulled the back of Trowa's shirt enough to lift his head from the sand. 

"Why?" croaked out Trowa threw bleeding lips. 

A lopsided grin appeared on the man's face. 

"We do what we are paid to do," he chortled. "As desirous as you are to be with your sister, you were not part of the deal." 

The man dropped Trowa's head and walked to his bike. 

"Take care kid," the man laughed as they sped off across the sand. 

Trowa watched them go from his hands and knees. He forced himself up and started coughing. He wrapped his arms around his middle to support his abused body. Only by his desire to save Catherine was he able to lift one foot and place it in front of the other. The hot sun assaulted him. His body protested each movement, but he pressed on till he stumbled. Once down, he could not find the energy to get up. He had pressed his body too far and his vision filled with darkness. 

* * *

Catherine was walking beside Trowa threw the market when a man bumped into her. The jolt caused her to falter and hit the ground. 

"Sorry, miss. Let me help you up," the skinny man offered her a hand. 

Catherine accepted it. There was a small prick on her palm as he pulled her up. She did not think much of it but became fearful when the man slipped his grip up her arm. A broader man took her other arm. Catherine fought the two men trying to pull her into the crowd. 

"Trowa!" she desperately cried. 

She could just make out his form in the crowd. He stopped at her cry. She called again and planted her feet firmly on the ground. She tried to dislodge the men's grip on her, but they only held her tighter. 

"Trowa!" she screamed with all she had before she sagged into unconsciousness. 

That was the last thing she remembered, and now she woke to find herself tied up and wrapped in a blanket on the desert sand. She cautiously opened her eyes. The slight glow of dying embers emitted from the circle of rocks. There were two other mounds of blankets, presumably her captors sleeping. The night air was cool across her face as she assessed the rest of the camp. 

Catherine tested her bonds and started working to get out of them. Growing up in the circus had taught her a few tricks. She kept a close eye on her sleeping captors. After some time she got her feet free then her hands. 

She saw the bikes and considered taking off on one of them. She stealthfully moved around the sleeping men to examine the bikes. 

_"I sure wish Trowa were here. He is always good with machines,"_ she thought as she examined the machines. 

She could identify the ignition, but she was unsure what all the other gears, levers, and buttons did, so she decided it would be best if she left them alone and took her chances on foot. 

She glanced around for any clue of the location of the nearest city. Large expanses of sand stretched out in all directions and gave no answer. Catherine finally chose the direction that appealed to her and started walking. 

* * *

"WAKE!" said a deep coarse voice. 

Something solid poked at Trowa's shoulder. 

"Wake. You must drink." 

Trowa began to stir. A strong arm came under his shoulders lifting his upper body off the sand. Something was put to his mouth and cool moisture touched his lips. He pulled greedily at the contents before it was pulled away. 

"Enough. More later," his benefactor said in a choppy manner. 

Trowa opened his eyes all the way. 

_"I must be seeing thing,"_ he thought. 

Looking down at him was a large, grayish brown, conical face with round dark eyes. It was a mix between human and animal. It had a wide flat nose and tall, wide, pointed ears on the top of its head that swiveled 180 degrees. The skin looked scaly like a lizard. 

Trowa stared at the alien and was amazed to hear his own language, accented, broken, and simple as it was, come from the mouth full of pointed teeth. 

"Gra take you to master," it said picking up Trowa. 

Trowa struggled to get free but was held firmly by arms the size of Trowa's thighs. 

"I must go that way," Trowa insisted while pointing in the direction the men had taken Catherine. "They took my sister. I have to save her." 

"Another follows. You hurt. Take to master. Master good, will help." 

It seemed very adamant about where they were going, and Trowa found he had no strength to fight. Trowa stopped struggling. 

"Good," said the alien satisfied with Trowa's nonverbal response. "Master not far." 

The alien bounded up the dune effortlessly. It paused sniffing at the air and rotating its ears to catch distant sounds. Getting its barring, it moved across the sand swiftly. 

Trowa noticed the light was dimming and deduced the sun must be setting behind him. That meant they were not headed to the town. 

They crossed two more dunes. Below the second dune, a group of men set up camp. Gra walked into the camp. The men wore the shirt, pants, vest and sash that Trowa had seen people dressed in every town. The men nodded as Gra passed. Gra headed to the animal pens where a young boy was tending to the creatures in it. 

"Found him," Gra said. 

The golden haired boy turned toward Gra and Trowa. His vivid blue eyes focused on them. 

"Hurt. Bad shape when found." 

The blond stepped closer and examined Trowa. 

"He definitely needs to be tended to," he said. 

Trowa wiggled to get down. 

"Stay still, friend," the blond said resting his hand on Trowa's arm. "We need to tend to you wounds." 

"I'll take him," offered the tall man who now stood behind the blond. 

The blond nodded, and Gra handed Trowa to the other man. 

"Where's Ru?" the blond asked. 

"Tracking others. Gra join, master permission." 

"Yes, go," said the blond. 

With its master's consent, Gra dropped to all fours and dashed out of camp. He moved efficiently through the desert. Large powerful muscles propelled him forward and his broad hands and feet helped him spread his weight out over the loose sand. 

"Rashid, please tend to his wounds, and I will be there when I finish feeding Sandrock." 

Rashid nodded and effortlessly carried the lanky youth into one of the tents. He set Trowa down on the cushioned pallet. He retrieved medical supplies from a trunk while Trowa silently watched. 

"Remove you shirt," Rashid said in a firm command. 

Trowa removed his shirt carefully. 

Rashid pulled up a stool and sat beside Trowa. He held a bowl with water and started washing off Trowa's injuries. Despite Rashid's careful attention to tending to the wounds, Trowa involuntarily winced when specific areas were touched. Rashid gently ran his hands over Trowa's ribs. 

"I would say that you probably have a cracked rib of two," Rashid diagnosed before wrapping Trowa's chest with strips of elastic cloth. 

The blond from earlier entered and turned on a couple lights to illuminate the interior of the dimming tent. 

"How is he?" the boy asked. 

"He will live," Rashid answered as he finished doctoring the boy. "He will be sore for a few days." 

"Welcome. My name is Quatre," the blond introduced himself and extended his hand. 

Trowa gave the offered hand one quick firm shake. 

"Trowa." 

"It is nice to meet you Trowa. You probably need food and rest," said Quatre. 

Trowa glanced out the tent flap into the darkness. 

"Rest assured, we will set out in search of your sister in the morning," assured Quatre. "Gra and Ru are excellent trackers and will find Catherine." 

The mention of his sister's name caught Trowa off guard. He knew he had not told anyone in this camp his sister's name. 

"You know her name," Trowa said flatly. 

Quatre let out a light chuckle at Trowa's quickness. 

"Yes," Quatre smiled. "One of my sisters is married to the town's constable. When she found out what had happened, she contacted me to see what I could do to help." 

Trowa's face only hinted at the question as to why Quatre's sister would care. 

Quatre seemed to be able to read his thoughts. 

"One of our other sisters saw you perform when your circus first came to our planet. She was so enthralled with it and the couple of performers she became friends with that she insisted we go if we got the chance. Thyme and Sage went the first night the circus was in town." 

Quatre sat on the stool that Rashid had abandoned. 

"They both had good things to say about it too. I was planning on going tonight," Quatre shrugged letting that thought hang in the air." 

Trowa nodded. 

Rashid returned with a tray full of food. Another man entered and set up a portable table between Quatre and Trowa. Rashid set the tray on the table and nodded the other man could leave. Rashid placed a plate before each before sitting in the doorway. 

The meal was eaten mostly in silence. Trowa carefully put the food in his mouth and took in his surroundings while he chewed. 

"Other than your sister being abducted, which I am truly sorry for, have you enjoyed your time on our planet?" 

The wording tickled the back of Trowa's mind as odd, but he dismissed it as he answered the question. 

"It is different form most of the planets we visit, but nice. The people are warm and receptive," Trowa answered." 

"What are the planets usually like?" Quatre asked. 

"Usually they have more plants and less desert," Trowa answered. 

"We do have our abundance of desert," chuckled Quatre. 

There was movement outside as someone handed a package to Rashid. Rashid entered and started shaking the envelope's contents into a goblet he scooped up from the table. He splashed water from a flask into the goblet and swirled. He handed it to Trowa. 

"Drink this! It will help kill the pain and you to sleep," he informed Trowa. 

Trowa accepted the goblet and sipped at the mixture. It was bitter like most medicines, and he quickly downed the liquid. The taste lingered on his tongue and caused him to crinkle his nose. 

Quatre laughed. 

"I hate the taste too. You better climb back into the cot before it takes effect. It is pretty potent." 

"If I am taking someone's bed, I can sleep on the floor," Trowa offered concerned with the imposition he might be on the group. 

Quatre good-naturedly pushed Trowa's concerns aside. 

"Don't worry about it. This is my tent and I have an extra bed. Now go and rest. We head out early in the morning," he ordered. 

Trowa could feel the drug pulling at his eyelids already. He settled himself into the bed and listened to Quatre and Rashid quietly talk of tomorrow's plans. The last thing Trowa remembered was Quatre pulling a map out of one of the trunks. 

* * *

Catherine trudged through the sand. She could not have been traveling more than an hour when the sun peeked over the horizon. She squinted against the reflection of sunlight off of the endless rolling mounds of sand. She stopped for a moment and glanced in all directions in search of some indication of civilization, but found none. 

Catherine sighed as the hopelessness of the situation pressed in on her. The air was already beginning to warm. With no water, supplies or shelter, she would not last long out here in the searing mid-day heat. 

That thought was chased away by the sound of motors. Fear of being captured for an unknown fate coursed through her as she started sliding down the dune face in an attempt to hide. She sat at the base of the mound deciding what to do next when she heard the sound of shouting. Before she could move, two motorbikes crested the sand dune and speed toward her. She tried to run but the sand hindered her. 

A bike zoomed by on either side of her, and she felt each arm caught up in a strong grasp. Her legs dragged across the sand till they came to a stop. Her arms were yanked behind her back, and they tightly tied them together. They secured her to one of the bikes and headed back to camp. 

The man set the bike down and pulled at the lead rope attached to her hands. She tumbled off the bike and into the sand. 

"Careful with her!" demanded the second man. "HE will have our hide if she is damaged too much." 

Her captor grunted and tossed the rope to the other man. 

"Here you take care of her then. Just make sure she does not escape again!" he barked before stomping off to one of the tents. 

"Come on girly," he said helping her set up. "Let's get you breakfast." 

Catherine spit the sand out of her mouth. 

He helped her to her feet and took her over to the fire. 

* * *

Trowa woke with the sound of Quatre moving around just before dawn. He sat up and winced at the pain in his bruised side. Whatever was in the beverage he was given had made him sleep soundly. 

"Morning," Quatre softly greeted in a warm manner. 

"Morning," grunted Trowa. 

"How are you feeling today?" Quatre inquired as he moved closer to examine Trowa in the growing light. 

"Like an elephant ran over me," Trowa dryly answered. 

Quatre smiled understandably. 

"It looks more like a couple of your performing horses pranced across you," Quatre responded. 

Trowa warped an arm around his side as he suppressed a chuckle. 

Anyplace that the two abductors had hit or kicked him hurt as Trowa moved. He could see the blue spots scattered on his arms and was sure his body was covered in bruises too. 

"You will need a shirt," announced Quatre as he turned to a trunk in the tent. "You go out like that, you will end up blistered by the sun." 

He pulled out a white shirt and handed it to Trowa. 

"It is a bit long on me, but I think it will fit you. If it does not, I can find another one that will fit better," Quatre assured. 

Trowa silently accepted the shirt and carefully slipped it on. It fit him, and he tucked the shirttail into his pants after standing up. 

Rashid entered with a two bowls on a tray. 

"Your breakfast, Master Quatre," said Rashid as he set it down. 

"Thank you, Rashid," Quatre said. 

"Come, friend Trowa, and join me in the morning meal," Quatre kindly invited. 

Trowa tried not to wince at the pain he felt as he walked over to the table they had eaten dinner at last night. He eased himself into the empty chair and found Quatre watching him. 

"It will hurt for a while," Quatre said mater of factly. 

Trowa only responded with a nod of his head before looking at the food before him. The bowl was filled with a clumpy porridge like substance. 

"I like to put honey on mine," Quatre informed as he drizzled the golden liquid into his bowl. 

Trowa took a taste of the porridge before adding a bit of honey to his own. 

"Any news on Catherine?" Trowa asked. 

"Not yet," Quatre sighed. "We should know something before we set out." 

"When will that be?" Trowa inquired. 

"In the next hour," Quatre answered. "The camp already is stirring and will soon be packing up." 

Trowa nodded before taking the last bit of his breakfast. 

* * *

As they packed up Gra entered camp and spoke with Quatre. Trowa watched the exchange intently. When they were finished, Quatre turned and walked up to Trowa. 

"Ru has caught up with them," he told Trowa. "You sister is alive. She had apparently tried to escape, because when Ru found them, they were bringing her back and not too happy." 

"Can we catch up to them today?" Trowa asked. 

A sorrowful look passed over Quatre's face. 

"Since they are on the move, we probably could not catch up to then till tomorrow at the earliest even if we traveled all night." 

_"The circus leaves tomorrow,_" thought Trowa. 

"I would prefer not to rescue her right away," Quatre added cautiously. 

Trowa instantly bristled like an angry cat. 

"Whoa, hear me out," he said while raising a hand. "If we rush in there and get her, we will never learn who was behind the kidnapping or why. And who's to say that person will not try again before you two get off this world, or follow and try later. Our only option is to follow from a distance and swoop in once we have proof of who is behind this." 

Trowa allowed Quatre's reasoning to placate him. There was truth to the blonde's words. Having her taken from him once was bad, but if they had to live constantly looking over their shoulder for fear that it would happen again was not the way he wanted to live. 

"Before we pack up, is there someone you need to contact?" asked Quatre. 

"I should probably call the manager," Trowa softly said. 

"There is a com unit in that tent," pointed Quatre. "Come." 

Trowa nodded and followed. 

Quatre picked up the handset and contacted his brother-in-law who patched them through to the circus manager. 

Trowa picked up the communication device. 

"Hello." 

"Trowa," said the circus manager, "have you found her?" 

"The scouts have located her and we are going to be heading out soon. But, it is going to take time to get to her, and the people helping me want to find out who is behind it which will take more time." 

"We leave tomorrow, you know." 

"Yes, Sir, I know," Trowa answered. 

"You know we can not wait for you," the manager stated. 

"I realize that, Sir. Give the other my regards, and I'll be in touch when I know more." 

"I pray you are successful." 

With that the conversation ended. Trowa handed the receiver back to Quatre. 

"I wonder if the timing was part of the plan?" pondered Quatre. 


	3. Chapter 3

Knives and Scimitars By West Wind Chapter 3 

Summary: (AU) Catherine and Trowa are part of a traveling interplanetary circus that visit the desert planet Afton, but before they can leave disaster strikes. Catherine is kidnapped and Trowa is out to save her with a bit of help from his new friends. 

Rating: PG 

Category: Adventure, Romance 

Pairing: 4xC 

* * *

They spent the entire day following Gra's lead. As they traveled, Gra would momentarily pause sampling the air before continuing. Other times Gra would let out a howl that rolled across the sand. It paused, every muscle taunt but unmoving except its ears that swiveled in search of a reply. A faint cry came in response, and Gra led them on. 

Once Gra had them all stay as it scouted ahead. Trowa watch as Gra climbed the dune and vanished before his eyes. 

"I always am amazed by them," Quatre said. 

"Did it just disappear?" Trowa asked pointing to the slope. 

"He is still there," Quatre assured. "Natural camouflage." 

They waited for Gra to report it was only a passing caravan and continued only taking a small break for lunch. 

Once they learned that those they pursued had stopped, they finally set up camp and ate dinner. This evening Trowa sat beside Quatre and his men around the cooking fire. 

"What are Ru and Gra?" Trowa asked, curiosity getting the best of him, as the alien took off after reporting to Quatre. "There was no mention of such a being in the information on the planet?" 

Those around Trowa chuckled. 

Quatre momentarily pondered how best to explain his unusual friends. 

"They are from a group we call Te'mel. They are something like the Bigfoot on earth – a being on the borderline between myth and reality." 

Trowa knew of the old legends. To this day, the existence of Bigfoot was debated. 

"Most people have never seen a Te'mel, and the Te'mel prefer it that way. They roam the desert and avoid human cities. They occasionally interact with the Itinerant and other desert nomads, but only occasionally." 

"Itinerant?" Trowa questioned rolling the new word over. 

Quatre gave Trowa a quick apologetic look. 

"They are one of the more well-accepted groups of nomads. They are healers, spiritual leaders, musicians, keepers of history, and people of sound judgment and counsel. In the smaller towns and settlements, they act like a circuit judge." 

"If they avoid humans, why do they call you master?" Trowa asked. 

Quatre flushed almost unnoticeably as he stared into the fire. 

"It started several years ago," he began. "My father and I had a disagreement over politics and I decided to move out. Well, maybe it was more like running away from home," he admitted sheepishly. "I ended up at Thyme's. She lived the farthest away from father. I was unsure what I was going to do other than not go back. 

"I started helping Sage. The number of bandit attacks in this area and the outlying villages had increased in recent years, and he welcomed my help. 

"I headed to one of the villages to check on a report when I came across a small group of ruffians torturing some 'creature.' I chased them off. 

"When I was sure the men were gone, I turned my attention to what they had been harassing. At first I was shocked to see a Te'mel before me. They had always been legends to me and at that moment a small battered one was trying to stand defensively between me and a second Te'mel. I told him that I was going to help and tended to his wounds the best I could. His companion appeared to be sick. 

"We made her as comfortable as we could before finding Itinerants to help. Once Ru and Gra were well, we set out to find their people. That did not take long. Within a day a small group had found us. They took in the two orphans I had rescued once they got over their suspicion of me. I left with the honor of being called friend. 

"Time passed and I set out on a crusade to fight the growing groups of bandits. That is when I met the Maguanac. They help me in my self-appointed task. 

"One day two Te'mel entered our camp. It was Ru and Gra grown up. They wanted to help in dealing with the bandit who not only attacked villages, but their people as well. Their people had been watching me and my crusade. Since I had aided them once, they believed, correctly, I would once more." 

"Why do they call you master?" Trowa asked once more. 

"Since I head up the group, they call me master as a term of respect," Quatre explained. 

Trowa thought there was more to it, but it was obvious that Quatre would say no more about it. 

"You keep talking about bandits. How bad are they?" 

"Over the past two years they have gotten really bad," Quatre sighed. "There have always been bandits, but usually it was a group here or there that pestered the lone traveler or small caravans." 

"It's not so any more. What changed?" asked Trowa. 

Quatre had a sorrowful look on his face. 

"We settled down into cities. The smaller towns are easy targets for desert rouges. They had been easily dealt with in the past, but now their numbers have increased, they have become bolder, and I believe more organized." 

"Organized?" Trowa questioned. 

"Bandits are increasing across the planet, not just this little area. They are attacking all but the Itinerant, yet the Itinerant know it is only a matter of time. 

"The small villages are the hardest hit. They take the town's food, water, and anything of value. With nothing left the villagers move into a larger town for safety," Quatre's concern for the people on his planet was obvious. 

"There is a pattern to what they do. I just know it, but I can't see it or who is behind it," Quatre agitatedly said as he pounded his fist into his thigh. 

"Surely the sultan would send troupes…" started Trowa. 

"No, he refused to see there is a problem!" Quatre said through gritted teeth and a glint of anger in his eye. "I have tried to make him see, but he will not head the warnings. He does not see beyond his own city!" 

This was the most adamant he had seen his easygoing host. 

"I'm sorry; I should not trouble you with our problems." 

Trowa assured that it was alright. 

"What do you and your men do to help?" Trowa cautiously asked. 

"We track down those we can and haul them in to Sage. We help the victims to rebuild. We provide protection for those traveling." 

"You help foreigners to find their missing sisters," added Trowa. 

That brought a smile to Quatre's face. 

"I guess we do." 

"It's getting late, and we should get to bed," said Quatre standing. "We will have another long day of riding ahead of us." 

* * *

They had been on Catherine's trail for several days. Quatre wanted to find out who was behind the abduction. It took a bit of reasoning and restraint to keep Trowa from going after Catherine when they got close to her and the abductors. 

Morning came, but the small camp below them did not pack up like it had the previous mornings. Gra and Ru moved closer to glean what information they could. While Quatre and his small group of men settled down for their afternoon meal, Ru entered their camp to report. 

Quatre gave Ru his immediate attention. 

"What have you found?" Quatre asked. 

"Illness in camp," Ru said. "Men good. Girl ill. In tent." 

Quatre nodded, and Trowa stiffened at the news. 

"Desert sickness," Quatre pondered. 

"What men say," Ru added. 

"What else did they say?" 

"They stay till she better. Argue over calling for doctor." 

"Hmmm," mused Quatre stroking his chin. 

A sparkle twinkled in his eyes as he looked first at Trowa and then at Rashid. 

"What are you planning, Master Quatre?" Rashid warily asked. 

"We have a supply of callillium on hand, don't we?" Quatre asked as if he did not hear Rashid. 

"Yes," Rashid answered. 

"Good, get it and other medical supplies," said Quatre with a feral grin. "Meet me and Trowa in my tent when you get the supplies together. Come on, Trowa." 

Quatre grabbed Trowa's sleeve and pulled him into the tent. Quatre glanced around the room searching for something. 

"That one, I think," he announced as he headed for one of the trunks. 

Quatre threw open the lid and started riffling through the stacks of clothing. He pulled out several items and threw them in a pile beside him. When he was satisfied that he had everything, he closed the lid. He sorted the items into two piles and handed one to Trowa. 

Trowa looked down at the pile of cloth questioningly. 

Rashid entered with his supplies as Quatre pulled a box from another trunk. Rashid took a look at the pile of clothing in Trowa's arms. 

"Master Quatre, why are you dressing Trowa as an Itinerant woman?" Rashid calmly asked. 

"Trowa and I are both going to be dressed like girls," Quatre answered grinning. "It is part of my plan, and you are going to play our father." 

Rashid shook his head in a gesture of surrender to understanding his young master's plan. 

"Why?" he asked. 

Quatre motioned for them to sit down. He started unfolding his plan to them and explained why Trowa and he would be dressed like girls. 

* * *

The hover-sled pulled by a team of six legged Z'lee, who looked like giant pill bugs with the heads of a camel, slowly crested a dune. The tall broad shouldered man called encouragingly to the team as he gave the reins a shake. Seated behind the man were two women who appeared to be working on needlework as they traveled. They adjusted course to travel across the dune top. 

"Hail, travelers!" called a man on a bike. "Can you help a group of fellow traveler's in need?" 

The driver of the hover-sled slowed and suspiciously watched the other man. It was custom to always help a fellow traveler in the desert, but common courtesies were being taken advantage by bandits more and more often these days. 

The two girls watched anxiously for any sign of deception. 

"The female traveling with us has come down with desert sickness, and we have no medicine to treat her with. Would you happen to have some with you?" 

"Where is your camp?" the driver stiffly asked. 

"It is below," the man pointed out. 

A small tent was barely identifiable against the sand and could be easily overlooked if not for the bike setting in front of it. The driver weighed his options carefully. 

"What kind of fool do you take me for," he growled placing his hand on his holstered weapon. "What kind of travelers would venture across the desert without the proper medical supplies?" he spit before setting the sled in motion once more. 

"Please, sir, I beg of you to aid us. We were hired to take this girl to her future husband, but she is not from Afton and my friend and I did not consider her susceptibility to our childhood ailments. If you have a bit of callillium to spare, we would buy it off of you," pleaded Awk. 

"Are you sure it is desert sickness?" came the soft voice of the blue eyed girl. 

Awk faltered. 

"What else would it be?" he asked confused. 

"Well, it could be Stellious or Staph," she answered. "Their symptoms are similar to desert sickness." 

"Will callillium help with them?" Awk asked. 

"Unfortunately, no," the girl answered. 

"How do I know which she has?" he inquired with panic beginning to show. 

"Let me look at her. I can tell," said the girl. 

"We should be moving on, Benzoin" the driver gruffly said. 

"Father, we must help the girl," she tenderly pointed out as she placed a hand on her father's shoulder. 

The driver acted like he would continue until he felt his daughter's hand on his arm. 

"Alright," he growled, "but at the first sign of trouble, we get out." 

The talkative daughter agreed, and a relieved Awk lead them down to their small camp. 

V'lac stood by the tent as they approached. 

They parked their sled and the two women disembarked. They adjusted their long skirts and sleeves so they would not hinder movement. They made sure their face veils properly covered to uphold their standard of modesty. 

The veiled blue eyed girl rummaged among their possessions till she found the medical bag. 

"She is in the tent?" she asked. 

"Yes," said V'lac and held back the flap for them to enter. 

Before allowing them to enter, their father examined the tent interior. With his nod of approval, the two girls entered followed by the men. 

Before them, on a pallet lay a feverish Catherine. Her sweat damp hair curled and clung to her face. She tossed and murmured with her fever induced dreams. 

"I need water! The cooler the better," ordered Benzoin, "a rag, and a bowl." 

"I'll get it," volunteered Awk and dashed off to get the items. 

"Trowa…," murmured Catherine as she started to thrash about. 

The two girls went to Catherine's bedside trying to restrain the sick woman.. 

"Don't worry, sister. We will get her well," assured Benzoin. "First we need to get her cooled off and examine her so we will know how to treat her." 

Awk returned with the requested items. 

"Thank you," said Benzoin. "If you men will leave, Ro and I will start tending this girl. Shoo!" 

The men were ran out of the tent and settled around what had been the night's fire to wait. 

Benzoin handed the bowl, rag and water to Ro. 

"Put some of the water in the bowl, soak the rag in it, and lay the damp cloth on her forehead." 

Ro did as instructed. Anxiety showed in her green eyes. 

Benzoin checked Catherine's pulse before pulling out medical examining devices from her bag. 

"It's desert sickness," diagnosed Benzoin when she had finished her exam. "Hand me the water flask, please. 

Ro handed her sister the item. Benzoin carefully measured a chalky white powder into a cup followed by a pail yellow one. She added water and made sure Catherine swallowed every drop. 

"That will help bring down her fever and fight the illness. Other than making sure she is comfortable and cooled off, there is not much more we can do but wait," Benzoin said. "I am going to tell the others." 

Ro nodded, and Benzoin exited the tent. Ro rung out the rag and placed it once more on Catherine's forehead. She took Catherine's hand in hers and watched the sick woman with the deepest concern. 

Catherine let out a sigh before settling into a sound sleep. 

* * *

Benzoin stepped out into the scorching afternoon sun. The two men immediately halted their conversation and looked up expectantly at her. 

"It is desert sickness," she informed them. "She has a bad case of it too. She needs plenty of rest, appropriate care, and kept out of the sun," Benzoin instructed the two men. 

The men whispered argumentatively among themselves. 

"How long until she can travel?" asked V'lac. 

"On your bikes, it could take anywhere from five days to two weeks for her to be well enough to travel across the desert on one of those without risking a relapse," Benzoin scoldingly informed the men. 

The men looked distressed at the news and continued their conference. 

Benzoin walked over to her father who was extending the sun shade from their sled into a canopy overhang so they could take refuge from the sun. He completed the task, and the two settled in folding chairs under the awning in the drastically cooler climate the shade provided. The two watched the men animatedly discus their current problem. 

"How long until they realize we have a shaded transport?" the father asked. 

Benzoin smirked, "Once they finish blaming each other and worrying if letting us see her was the right thing to do, they will be open to other options before them. 

"Have they done anything but bicker?" she asked. 

"Mostly they set there in silence," he informed. 

Benzoin glanced up at the sky. 

"I guess I should be preparing our afternoon meal before the afternoon progressed too much further," she sighed. 

Benzoin accessed their food supplies and started setting up a meal of fruit, cheese and bread. 

* * *

"It does us no good arguing about who should have brought a med kit," V'lac sternly said. "We have a time limit we have to meet and have to find a way around our problem." 

"But she can't be moved. The girl said so," squeaked Awk. 

"She said on bike. Did you look at their transport?" V'lac asked. 

Awk glanced over at the sled and the girl setting up lunch. 

"It looks like a normal transport to me," Awk observed. 

V'lac slugged Awk. 

"You ninny hammer! It has a shade. If we could travel with the girl resting in it, we would not loose as much time." 

"So we steel their transport." 

"We could," V'lac said through grit teeth, "but we need someone to tend to the girl." 

"Then we take Benzoin with us!" Awk said excitedly. 

"Awk, sometimes you amaze me with the lack of thought you put into a plan," V'lac shook his head. "Here is what we do. We convince them of our need to get her to her future spouse and have them carry her in their craft where the daughters can tend to her." 

"If she wakes and tells them she is kidnapped?" 

"We tell them she had recently been kidnapped and is still confused from the fever," V'lac explained. "If they get too suspicious, then we can steal their sled, but why get the Itinerants mad at us." 

Awk agreed with V'lac on that point. The Itinerants might be a spread out group of nomads, but what ill or wrong occurred to one of their members was always learned of by the others and the offender dealt with. People never double crossed an Itinerant more than once. 

* * *

Benzoin finished setting up the meal and went to retrieve Ro. 

"Ro, time to eat. She will be fine while we eat," she assured. 

Ro exited the tent and followed her sister. 

"Would you like to join us?" Benzoin asked V'lac and Awk. 

They agreed and the five settled down to enjoy the meal. 

"Sir," V'lac addressed the father. 

"My name is Iggel," the man said, "and these are my daughters Benzoin and Ro." 

The girls nodded as they were introduced. 

"I'm V'lac and this is Awk," V'lac introduced. "Thank you for your assistance. We have been through so much on our trip. At one point, a small group of bandits abducted our charge. Luckily we were able to recover her before they harmed her. Right Awk?" 

V'lac nudged Awk. 

"Oh… yeah, she was abducted," Awk sputtered. 

Benzoin let out a small gasp. 

"How horrible," she commented. 

"That is when we lost the rest of our group. They stayed to fight while we escaped to take her to her fiancé. Then she came down ill, and if not for you, I fear she would be dead." 

"Glad we can help," Iggel said. 

Awk stared at Ro for several minutes. 

"Is she shy?" Awk asked interrupting the conversation. 

Ro eyed Awk, but said nothing. 

"She has no voice. She has been mute from birth," Iggel answered. 

"Oh," Awk murmured and looked down at his food. 

"You must excuse my companion," V'lac said. "His manors are not the best." 

"No offence taken," Iggel assured. 

"I was wondering if you would be willing to aid us once more," V'lac asked. "We are traveling to Belmar and must get our charge there by a specific date. If we wait for her to be well, we will not make it." 

"You would like us carry her in our wagon," supplied Iggel. 

"That is what we had in mind, if it is not an imposition," V'lac said. 

"We are headed to Fe-so, and Belmar would be on our way. We will help you," Iggel agreed. 

"Thank you," V'lac said relieved. 

* * *

Catherine groggily opened her eyes to darkness. She worked her mouth trying to rid it of the dry feeling. She felt sweaty and warm like she was breaking a fever. She had not been feeling well, she remembered. Snatches of fever inspired dreams waltzed around like spirits through her mind. 

"You're awake," whispered a soft voice. 

"Yes," she whispered back. 

She wondered why she was whispering, but it seemed like the right thing to do. 

A small light barely illuminated the tent they were in. Beside her was a person covered in veils and skirts. 

"I'm a friend," whispered the woman anticipating Catherine's question. "There is some one who will be glad to see you are up." 

The "friend" poked with her foot at a form sleeping on the floor. The form began to stir and pulled back the blankets. 

"Trowa!" gasped Catherine and was quickly hushed by the two other occupants in the wagon. 

The reunited siblings hugged. 

"Trowa, you did find me," she said happily with tears moistening her face, "and rescued me." 

"Well, we have not exactly done the rescuing part yet," the woman informed her. 

Catherine confusingly looked at the woman. 

"I'll explain it all to her," Trowa said. "Why don't you get some sleep?" 

The woman nodded and started to remove her veils reveling she was really a he. 

"I assume that will be part of the explanation?" Catherine asked. 

Trowa nodded. He started to recount what had happened since their parting while Quatre pulled the light weight blanket around him. 

* * *

"So that is how we ended up here," Trowa finished in the hushed voice he used through the entire story. "If you are not up to this, we can pull out now, but Quatre would like to get who is behind it." 

Catherine glanced down at the hansom sleeping blond. 

"I am," Catherine assured. "If we don't get him, what else might he do? We have to help Quatre," she said and placed a hand on top of Trowa's. 

* * *

The next morning, Catherine feigned sleep while the camp rose and readied to head out. 

"How is she?" asked the gruff voice of one of her captors. 

"Her fever is receding. She should come around soon," assured Benzoin. 

Catherine forced herself to keep her eyes closed as something blocked the morning light. A hand touched her face. 

"She is cooler and gaining color back," V'lac noted. "Alert me as soon as she wakes. She has been through much and may be disoriented on waking. I want to calm her fears." 

"It shall be done as you say," Benzoin responded. 

The shadow retreated with the reassurance. 

"Wake before we move out," whispered Benzoin as she attended Catherine. 

Catherine mouthed an OK signaling her understanding. Then she was alone. 

* * *

Catherine deemed it time to wake. She sat up and was amazed at how frail she felt. 

Benzoin noticed the movement and informed V'lac. 

V'lac entered the tent. His huge form blocking the entrance. 

"It is good you are back among us," he said. 

She only glared at him. 

"I have a proposition for you," he smiled. 

He stalked toward her and crouched beside her pallet. She shifted and tried to look strong yet the weariness she felt quickly showed behind her mask. 

"You are in no condition to escape. You would not get far before we retrieved you, so don't think about it," he cautioned. 

Catherine knew he was right. She was having trouble sitting up for ten minuets without tiring. There was no way she could cross a desert and survive in her weakened condition. He seemed to see her understanding in her eyes and nodded. 

"The Itinerants have warned me that you could easily relapse and insist on continuing with us and watching over with you. Because we need you well, we have agreed to their offer, but their safety is up to you." 

"How?" she asked. 

"By keeping your mouth shut. You are bound to see your future husband and we are your escort. If you breathe a word that you have been abducted, you risk their lives. Awk and me can come up with interesting ways to get rid of those that stand in our way." 

From the way he smiled, Catherine did not doubt it one bit. 

"So we understand each other?" he asked. 

Catherine nodded. 

"Good," he said as he stood. As an afterthought he turned back toward her and said, "And even if you were to escape, there is no where for you to go. Your circus headed out weeks ago and is long gone, and you would probably end up in a much worse fate than we take you to." 

Catherine knew he lied. Last night, Trowa told her the circus had left only four days ago, but she showed the appropriate loss of hope that her captor was wanting before he exited the tent. 

Catherine watched as V'lac approached Benzoin. His words were faint, but she could make them out. 

"She did not recognize me at first," he sounded concerned. "By the end, she knew what was happening, but I fear she might slip back into her delusions." 

"My sister and I will keep a close eye on her," Benzoin assured and placed an understanding hand on his shoulder. 

V'lac muttered his appreciation before moving on. 

Catherine could not help but smirk at the blonde's deftness at being a girl. 

Benzoin and Ro entered the tent to help move her to the wagon. Catherine could see V'lac watching her carefully while he packed up. The wagon provided some shelter from her captors' eyes. 

As Quatre leaned in front of her to settle her in she asked, "Where did you learn to be such a convincing girl?" 

"I have several older sisters," he whispered back before dropping back into character. "Are you comfortable?" 

Catherine nodded, and everyone prepared to leave. 

* * *

Not long before noon, Iggel lead them into an oasis. 

"It's best if we stop here," his voice boomed to those in the group. 

The tall palms and dense vegetation offered appreciated shelter from the oppressive heat. 

Benzoin was the first out of the cart. Ro followed helping Catherine out. Catherine found her legs uneasy to stand on and tenderly took each step to where Benzoin had laid out a blanket in the shade. Catherine sat down. She scanned the area and thought she saw movement in the brush. She was about to say something when Benzoin motioned for silence. Catherine complied. 

Ro sat beside Catherine and leaned toward her sister. 

"Gra and Ru?" Ro softly asked. 

Benzoin gave the slightest affirmation. 

Catherine watched them perplexed but was unable to ask as her captors joined them. 

"How are you feeling?" V'lac asked Catherine. 

"Better," she answered. 

They ate a light meal and took an afternoon nap through the hottest part of the day. Catherine did not sleep well, but watched those around her from her stretched out position. She found this whole thing absurd. Why would someone want to kidnap her? The only person who had made any kind of advance toward her was the sultan. Could he be behind it? If he was, what could Trowa's friend do? Maybe she should ask them tonight. As she started to drift off, she remembered the roses she had received that wished her luck on her performance. There was no name, but she had assumed they were from one of the members of the troupe because she had been having a bad day. 

She was not going to get any answers now. She would have to wait until tonight. 

* * *

That night, when they were sure V'lac and Awk were asleep, Catherine explained to her unveiled companions her earlier suspicions. 

Quatre laughed. 

The siblings looked at him curiously. 

"My sultan might be a lecherous womanizer, but he would not stoop to kidnapping. Not his style. He would rather wine and dine the lady and impress her with his position and achievements. Anyway, he had been band from taking any more wives or concubines," Quatre said. 

"How do you know all this?" asked Catherine. 

"I once lived in the sultan's household. My father works there," Quatre shrugged and suddenly appeared uneasy. 

Trowa eyed his friend as he tried to put pieces together. There was something Quatre was not telling them, and Trowa was sure he could figure it out once he got a few more bits connected. 

"Trowa, do you know who sent me the roses?" Catherine asked pulling him from his puzzle. 

Trowa paused trying to remember the flowers. 

"I believe they were delivered by a local," Trowa answered. "That is what the manager said when he dropped them off." 

"I thought they were from one of the other performers," Catherine said wrinkling her brow in quandary. 

"They might have been," Trowa shrugged. 

"Roses?" questioned Quatre. "It couldn't be," he murmured to himself. "But, I would not put it past him. Which city was that in?" Quatre asked fastening intense blue eyes on Catherine. 

Catherine found herself drawn to his eyes and admired their beauty. 

"Um… I think it was… Kail," she answered never looking away. 

Trowa agreed with her. 

Quatre become lost to his companions as he started murmuring to himself. 

"You know who it is just by roses?" asked Catherine. 

"Huh…" he looked up bewildered and Catherine asked again. 

"Roses are rare. Only nobility and wealthy merchants have the resources to grow the temperamental plants, and most of them think it is a waist of money and land. 

"There is one man in Kail that puts forth the effort to cultivate them. He is the one that probably sent you the roses, but I wonder if he is the one behind this," Quatre trailed off. "If he is, it should prove to be very interesting. Only time will tell." 


End file.
